


it follows.

by angeburger, gayforroxane



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Archie loves his poet boyfriend, Blood Kink, M/M, Murder Husbands, dark!jarchie, disturbing imagery, i guess??, poetic imagery, poetry-induced orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 19:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10286873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeburger/pseuds/angeburger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayforroxane/pseuds/gayforroxane
Summary: “You connected me into new constellations. You told me you wanted spread me under you, create a new galaxy out of me. The old world was falling, it was burning down."An interlude in the "blood and guns and guts" series. Note that everything here was built on those works.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Usagi (angeburger) here. So I really loved Mads' "blood and guns and guts" series. What started as a tribute turned into a collab. Shout out to her for letting me play in her sandbox. Super grateful you've been so generous, dude. ❤️
> 
> Y'all can hit us up on Tumblr at pinksugarsheartattack (Usagi) and timetravellingcabinetofwonders (Mads) with comments and concerns.

"I dreamt about you.”  
  
They're lying horizontally across Archie's bed, their knees knocking together. The words spill from Jughead as he spins worlds across his boyfriend's palms, neat, quick, careful patterns that meander like Dickens sentences.  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"It's weird," Jughead squirms, nails biting into Archie's hands.  
  
"No." He smooths a hand down clawed-creaking-through-the-skin-ribs. "Tell me."  
  
"Fine." He shifts, the sides of his body becoming sharper, more heavily angled, before settling a touch farther away from Archie than before. "Okay. We killed someone."  
  
Archie tugs him closer, one hand on his hip, the other still in his grasp.  
  
"Some guy. His body was cooling in the foreground...."  
  
He trails off, and Archie fights the wave of surprise that threatens to overwhelm him at the apprehension in his voice. A soft, gentle hum spills from his mouth.  
  
"Okay. And?"  
  
Jughead draws a shuttering breath inwards, curling his hands into Archie's jacket. "Your hands were covered in blood. You said you wanted to make new constellations. Move stars. Just for me. So you connected it all with his blood."  
  
A pause.  
  
Archie fights off a pounding in his gut, in his veins, as arousal, hot and sticky, rips under his skin.  
  
“Weird, right?” Jughead says, a laugh trailing between his teeth.  
  
“No. Tell…” A shaky breath in. “Tell me more.”  
  
Jughead shifts in surprise, catching himself on the edge of Archie's big, dark eyes, nearly falling in.  
  
“Didn't think the great football deity that is Archie Andrews would be the type to want to listen to his boyfriend's dreams.” The sardonic tone masks surprise, cloaks hesitancies and mangles the hot flush of want that settles on his cheeks.  
  
“Come on, Jug," Archie hedges, pressing his body closer.  
  
A reluctance. “... Fine. But it gets weirder.”  
  
“I wouldn't expect anything less," Archie says with a smile, slipping an elbow between Jughead's ribs. He feels him relax slightly.  
  
“I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Another pause, a collection of thoughts. "It was night, and for some reason there was a meteor shower above us. I could see it in a pool of the guy's blood. I could see it in your eyes."  
  
The picture slides past Archie's consciousness, fresh and bright. Jughead: pale, spotted with moles, connected with slick trails of hot blood, tacky and dark -- stark on light, soft skin. Archie: enamoured, in love, the tips of his fingers coated in it, dragging over dips and bends.  
  
“You connected me into new constellations. You told me you wanted spread me under you, create a new galaxy out of me. The old world was falling, it was burning down," Jughead murmurs, reverent.  
  
Archie can't resist the urge to move closer, to cage, touch, protect. "...And then?” he asks, moving a lax mouth down Jughead's neck and onto his collarbones, tonguing at his moles, nipping at his skin.  
  
“It was us." He swallows, and Archie can't feel it against his mouth. He curls a hand around to Jughead's hip, down to his ass, guiding one leg up around his waist, tangling together, pressing close. He gives a light moan at the pressure at the front of their hips. 

Jughead's voice stutters, breath hitching as Archie starts sucking a dark mark into the space above his pulse. "Th-The guy was there, then he wasn't. His blood remained. I could feel it, drying and stretching across my skin. I was cold but your hands were warm. Your lips were, too.”  
  
Another pause. Archie licks a stripe from the hollow of his throat to his chin, knotting the soft hair in his hands. He grins when Jughead moans, his hands gathering in the soft cotton of his t-shirt.  
  
“Fuck, Archie."  
  
"Keep going," he whispers, breathing hot over his ear.

  
Jughead whimpers as Archie ruts against him, his skin hot, cock hard.

  
"Juggie," he urges, rucking up his shirt, spreading his warm palms over cool, smooth skin, toying with his nipples as the other boy arches, inarticulate.

"S-so s-s-stars rained down around us. You wore some, like a crown. I think I did, too. I remember feeling something sharp against my scalp - prickly. The world was ending around us, I guess, ah, but I couldn't care.”  
  
“At least it got that beanie off your head - “ A soft snicker, hands carefully carding through his hair, dropping his hat onto the floor next to the bed.  
  
“Do you wanna hear the rest? Or not?” Jughead snips. He drags his blunt nails over Archie's skin under his back and smiles when he swears, grinding their hips together in a quick motion.  
  
“Yes." He bites at a nipple, sucking carefully, until Jughead tilts back with a sweet moan. "Yes I do.”  
  
“Then s-shut up.”  
  
Pause. Archie rolls him under, pinning him to the bed, obediently silent.  
  
"I remember reaching up, and seeing my hands were covered in the guy's blood, too. Don't remember how. It was still wet on my fingers. I touched your face, it left streaks. It made you look like a wild thing.” His voice goes breathy and loose, lax, rasping over his vocal cords, over his wet tongue, his teeth. Archie sucks warm kisses down Jughead's stomach and over his ribs.  
  
“A wild king?” Archie asks, biting into the skin of his hips, into the dips, feeling Jughead shift, the hard line of his cock straining against the front of his pants.  
  
“Something like that." He pauses to take a deep breath, inhaling. Archie can feel the muscles of his stomach expand "It's funny you say that…”  
  
“Why?” Archie pulls at the button of his pants, slides the zipper down.  
  
“Because you told me that I was your king. I ruled all. Your head and your heart. That you would start wars for me.” Pause. A sharp inhale, a tiny swear and a breathy moan, as Archie mouths at his cock through the thin fabric of his briefs, leaving it wet. "Y-you kissed me, and it felt like the universe was coming apart inside of me, making me, making us something new.”  
  
“What did that feel like?”  
  
A small thoughtful quiet, filled with hitching breath. A whine, as Archie slides his mouth back up his body, stopping at the soft skin of his stomach and ribs, his nipples, biting and sucking at them under their flush red and Jughead's answer chokes between his teeth.  
  
“...D - fuck - dissociative is probably the best way for me to put it.”  
  
“Out of body?” Archie asks, murmuring against his collarbones, licking across them, as his body blankets Jughead's, as if trying to convince to be in body. He brings his hands up to run through red hair, to press his wet mouth to another, soft and wide and pink.  
  
“Yes--" kiss "--and no." A moan, and a kiss. "I can't really find any other way to put it.” A sigh as Jughead's legs come up to frame Archie's hips, pressing their cocks together, still restrained by clothes. "It felt like the first time we met. I'm guessing it'll feel like the last time we meet, too.”  
  
“Dream me wasn't wrong," Archie murmurs against his skin as they rock together, "I would do all of that for you. And more.”  
  
A sharp intake of air. A gasp. "Arch.” It's muffled against another pair of lips, tongues licking against the roof of mouths, the front of teeth, leaving a trail between their lips as Archie brings a hand down to palm at Jughead's cock, urging him closer.  
  
“You are my king, Jug.” 

The words come like a prayer, and Jughead arches up, moaning, back bending. Archie moves back slightly to watch the flush come over his face, the bright cheeks and eyes, the outline of his ribs through his skin, imagining blood coating the space between moles. He moans, tucking his mouth into Jughead's neck as he feels lips at his ear and jaw. The metallic taste of blood almost floods his tongue. 

Pause, a catch for breath. 

"What happened then?"  
  
“I woke up," Jughead says, and bites hard into the soft skin of his ear lobe, sucking at the blood that wells up. Archie keens and fits his mouth into his pulse point, biting down, down, down until he arches, clinging to swear stained red hair, tasting the blood for real this time.

  
This is what Jughead tastes like, what he is.  
  
“Anticlimactic," he gasps, remembering Jughead's words.  
  
He chuckles, huffing breath as his mouth curves into a shy, blissed-out smile. Wrapping around Archie's biceps, and curling his legs tighter to his waist, he throws his weight up and to the left, urging Archie onto his back. He grinds down into him, feeling the hard line pressed up against his ass, the hands on his hips, nails biting.  
  
"You're telling me.” 


End file.
